


We Used to Talk

by Anonymous



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hacy Week 2020, hacyweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25235866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: What if Harry didn't run off quite so quickly after his little speech to Macy in Curse Words (2.10)?Very late submission to Hacy Week 2020HacyWeek Day 5: What if?  (take a scene in canon and alter it, fill in the gaps, etc )
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42
Collections: Anonymous





	We Used to Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to try my hand at 'fixing' this rage inducing scene since I am currently unable to reach through the screen and punch Harry in his pretty, little whore mouth.

There’s a voice inside him telling him to stop, to bite his tongue, to stem the flow of words that even now are decimating what little is left of his friendship with Macy. But still the bitter words leave his mouth and the look on her face…

Harry makes it as far as the first stone step before the steel staircase before the shame in his chest has him turning around. Macy’s back is to him and her head is tilted back. In the silence of the large room he can’t not hear the sound of her pulling in a shaky, water-logged sniff and blowing out an equally unsteady breath. Tears, she’s trying to hold back tears.

"Macy..."

"Whatever the Elders took from you to make that darklighter, they sure left plenty of 'mean' and 'asshole' behind, didn't they?"

"Macy, I'm sorry."

The laugh that spills from her mouth is watery and bitter and Harry feels his heart crack.

"What could _you_ possibly have to be sorry for? After all, according to you and my own sisters _I'm_ the only one here that's been selfish and so terribly inconsiderate of whatever the hell these mysterious feelings of yours are."

“That’s not- I wasn’t saying that.”

“Weren’t you, though? Because I’m pretty sure you just said that my concern for your safety was just some sort of _pretense_ to what- keep you from finding true love with a demon while I traipse off to screw all the darklighters and billionaires _my heart desires_? Isn’t that it?”

Harry flinches. It _had_ been what he was saying and of course his brilliant witch had understood every callous word he had flung at her.

The phone in her hand trills and when she raises it Harry can see the name of the caller over her shoulder.

"Hey, Julian. No, no, I got it. I just- I don't think I can right now," he hears her say, her voice soft but so very, very heavy and tired in a way he hadn't heard since the days just after... after Galvin's wake. She huffs out another sad laugh, "No, nothing like that. I'm not what anybody's calling good company right now. I wouldn't want to do inflict that on you, too"

She pauses, presumably listening to her would-be billionaire beau to continue to try and convince her to join him wherever billionaires took the women they were wooing. Harry closes the distance between them.

"Julian... You don't have to-" Another pause before, "Oh Julian, that is so sweet of you, really. But I-"

The softness in her voice, the surprise at whatever kind words she's just heard, the smile- She sounds so touched and it's not just jealousy that propels Harry to close the physical distance between himself and the woman he's spent the better half of the year pushing away from him. Harry feels a panic and dread, the likes of which he's never experienced outside of a magical confrontation. It wells up inside of him, filling his lungs and settling like an anchor on his heart. As if he might drown if he doesn't reach her in time and change the course of the events unfolding before him.

Harry takes one last step and is standing right behind her now. He wants to touch her but knows he hasn't the right, not after what he suddenly realizes is only the latest of his cruel outbursts.

"Don't go," Harry whispers to her back.

"No, I'll..." Macy's words trail off as a hand lands hesitantly over her waist.

"Please..." The nearly inaudible plea drifts down into the space between her collar and gathered curls. She shivers and the metal clasps in her hair twinkle in the glow of the witchboard; the small movement sending the scent of her hair wafting over him.

"You're a good friend, Julian..."

Harry blinks his eyes furiously as regret and sorrow surge through him. He feels his heart clenching painfully in his chest. His fingers drift down and tighten over her hip. His forehead rests heavily on her shoulder, bowed under the weight of his shame. His arms slide around her middle and he clings to her as if for dear life.

"I am so, so sorry, Macy," Harry breathes, his lips moving over the patch of moisture his eyes have left, spreading through the dark silk of her shirt.

"...but I still can't, I'm sorry. Julian, I really have to go. Thank you, that means a lot to me. Goodbye."

She sets her phone down and lays her arms alongside Harry’s. She presses her arms over his and Harry takes her meaning, obliging her desire to be held more firmly. They stand there in the quiet of the empty Command Center swaying slightly and soaking in each other’s presence. But the stillness doesn’t last for long and the questions he dreads but knows he must now answer are finally given voice.

"What do you really want from me, Harry?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he answers, hoping against hope it will suffice.

It does not.

Macy doesn't reply but her hands fall to his and Harry feels her tugging his arms from her waist. He tries to tighten around her, to hold on but she turns in his arms and it forces him to step back.

"I'm not playing games with you anymore, Harry. Either spit it out or- God, I don't even know what the 'or' would be! Just tell me! Just talk to me, _please_."

Her hands clasp against his cheeks and Harry raises his gaze to hers. Her cheeks are just as wet as his and her eyes- god, those eyes. He was the one that did this, filled those eyes with such torment and tears.

"We used to be friends, didn't we, Harry? We used to be able to talk. Just tell me what the hell is going on with us!"

"What's going on is that you have had the misfortune of having an idiot such as I fall in love with you. And I am apparently as much a shambles at loving you as I am at being your guide or protector. I swear that I love you but I have made such a muck of things that instead of sharing my feelings with you as any sane man might've done, I've broken our friendship with my pettiness."

"In- In love? You never said anything about being, ah..." Macy gulps down a breath. "About being _in love_."

He chuckles darkly, "You see? An idiot."

"Harry..."

"Like the proverbial ass, I assumed you knew by virtue of that single moment when you'd read my thoughts."

"You told me to forget! I figured it was because you were embarrassed. Because I mostly saw, um, ah... 'limbs entwined' is I think the phrase that you were thinking of? And I..."

"Ah, yes."

"It was... You have a vivid imagination, Harry. And not that I wasn't, um, really flattered but-"

"It didn't quite speak of a romantic love, yes, I can- _ahem_ -I can see that, now." Harry can feel his face flush and even under the dim lights of the Command Center he's quite sure he's beet red. He fights the urge to tug at his already unbuttoned collar.

"And it wasn't the best time in the world, Harry. Galvin..."

"I know."

"You asked me not to go, Harry. And you say that you're in love with me but... You had somewhere to go, yourself, Harry. You sure you really still feel that way about me now? Because just a few minutes ago, I think you were trying to tell me that there's a special someone out there that poisoned herself just for you that you wanted to make sure is all tucked in and recuperating. Someone you had up against that very bookshelf right over there."

"Alright, I did not _have_ Abigael in any sort of way other than-" Harry feels his ire rise and he clenches his jaw against a stream of words he knows he would regret. He'd been angry with her then, when he'd kissed Abigael that night. And he'd been angry with her earlier tonight when he'd told her of his plans to visit the woman that had just spent the evening manipulating them, _him_. When he looks into Macy's eyes he sees her bracing herself and a wave of sickness washes over him. He'd been punishing her for what he'd deemed was an unfair lack of reciprocation and she knew it. She was bracing herself for more pain. From him.

"I'm sorry. Although, yes, I did want to know that she's not still on the verge of expiring-"

"From poisoning herself to get your attention."

"I- Yes," he says, shoulders dropping as he admits both to the truth of Macy's words and an inner defeat. "But the way it was said, I admit I was being purposefully cruel to you and I'm sorry. Macy, I'm so sorry."

"So do you need to go?" she asks as she takes a small step back. His gut tightens as he realizes she's making room for him to leave her.

Harry's eyes flick to the phone sitting on the table behind Macy.

"Harry, I'm not going to be running into another man's arms if you say 'yes'. At least not tonight." The last part he knows to be a bit of teasing on her part, but the tightening worsens just the same. 

"I don't need to go."

"But you want to."

"Blast it, Macy, I do not want or need or desire to be anywhere but here! With _you_."

She considers him for a moment and Harry has to take a deep breath against his rising trepidation. Had he gone too far again?

"Okay, Harry. I believe you."

"Alright. Good."

"But here-here? Or can we go home now?"

Harry doesn't give a verbal answer, the roiling of his emotions having sapped the energy to speak any more for the moment. Instead, he wraps his arms back around Macy and pulls her into an embrace. It's only when he feels her arms rise and twine around his shoulders that he presses his face into the curve of her neck and orbs them away.


End file.
